Five Minutes to Heaven
by Kristen Elizabeth
Summary: Sara pounced on her husband the minute they got into her car in the airport's short term parking lot. GSR.


Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me.

Author's notes: Another ep without Sara? Here's what I say to that: smut! You have been warned. Enjoy:)

* * *

Five Minutes to Heaven

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

When Sara picked Grissom up from the airport, she wanted nothing more than to drive him straight home and gleefully divest him of every piece of clothing he had on.

Unfortunately, he had made a promise over email that he wouldn't miss the 'welcome home' party that Catherine had decided to throw for him. There wasn't anything Sara could do about it, especially if she wanted to maintain the _detante _that she and Catherine had found ever since she returned to Vegas.

Still, Sara pounced on her husband the minute they got into her car in the airport's short term parking lot.

Grissom had no problem with this until the need for oxygen became an issue. But even when he pulled back, Sara kept going, her lips finding new places to kiss along the edges of his beard.

Grissom just chuckled, making no move to stop his wife. "So, you've missed me, then?"

Holding his face between her hands, Sara stopped just long enough to give him a look. "Don't ask stupid questions, Gilbert."

There was too much space between them and yet not enough space to move around. The steering wheel was digging into her kidney and she had one knee in the drink holder. When it became evident that the interior of the car was not designed for a tryst, Sara sat back in the driver's seat with a sigh of frustration.

"Can't we just tell her you're jet-lagged?"

Grissom reached for her hand and brought it up to his lips. "She'll never buy that. It's better to just put in an appearance and make a hasty exit."

Sara shivered as the edge of his mustache brushed over the delicate skin of her palm. "It would be worth pissing her off," she murmured.

"C'mon, honey." Grissom leaned in as close as possible and gave her a soft kiss. "The sooner we get it over with..."

He didn't need to finish the thought. Sara was already starting the car and screeching out of the parking garage.

* * *

The party was in full swing by the time they arrived. Catherine must have timed it that way; it explained why she'd asked so many questions about Grissom's flight.

"That sneaky..." Having pulled into the driveway, Sara threw the car into park. "She thought this out."

Grissom peered through the window at the crowd that he could see milling about inside the house. "You don't really think it's just luck that this spot was open."

"She's not giving us any excuse to bail," Sara scowled. "You know, I covered her ass the other day when she was late to a scene because she overslept at Vartann's place. She owes me."

Her husband looked back at her, his eyebrows raised. "Catherine and Vartann?"

"I didn't tell you that?" She frowned. "I know I told you that." When Grissom shook his head, she waved her hand dismissively. "It's been a thing for awhile. She seems happy."

"Good. She deserves it, too." Grissom squeezed his wife's hand. "Ready for this?"

"Ready for this to be over." Sara gave him a playful, yet heated smirk. "You?"

Grissom was out the door in seconds.

* * *

They hadn't even made it all the way inside the living room before Sara and Grissom were separated. Somehow Sara ended up near the bar while Grissom was lost in a sea of well-meaning, but overly eager friends and co-workers.

Nick was playing bartender and he promptly shoved a cold bottle of beer into Sara's hand. "You look like you need a few of these."

"Good call." She took a sip. "How come you're not over there?"

"I know Gris better than that." Nick shook his head in amusement as they watched Grissom being pushed into one hug after another. "I think Sarte had him in mind when he decided that 'hell is other people'."

Sara glanced back at him. "You know, you're a lot smarter than you get credit for."

Nick grinned. "Coming from you, that's almost a compliment."

She leaned back against the bar as Nick leaned forward on the other side and they clinked bottles.

Greg emerged from the crowd and made his way over to them. "Hey, who died over here?"

"My sex life," Sara muttered. "Clear case of neglect."

Nick snorted as Greg choked on the olive he'd tossed into his mouth. "I bet that if you'd told Catherine that you had...you know..._plans _tonight, she would have understood."

"I've been six thousand miles away from my husband for a couple of months," Sara sputtered. "I shouldn't have to spell it out for her!"

Having recovered, Greg shook his head. "I don't think Catherine likes to think about Grissom that way. It's like thinking about your parents." He shuddered.

"Thanks a lot!" Sara set down her beer with more force than necessary. "Nick, see you later." With that, plus one seriously hard glare directed straight at Greg, she stalked off.

"You stepped in it now." Nick chuckled. "And I think you're gonna stink for awhile."

Greg turned to face him. "I wasn't talking about her."

"Just the guy she's hitched to."

After a second, Greg let out a huge sigh. "Gimme a beer, would you?"

Nick obliged, but not without making an observation. "There's a reason why jealousy is the worst of the seven sins, Greggo."

"Shut up."

* * *

Grissom smiled patiently as Judy flipped through photos of her six month old daughter on her iPhone. "She's beautiful," he told the beaming receptionist. Spotting Sara through the crowd, he quickly kissed Judy's cheek. "Excuse me."

"Baby pictures?" Sara guessed when they finally reached each other. "I've learned five new routes around the lab that completely avoid reception."

"I didn't even know she was pregnant," Grissom admitted. "Or married." He looked around the room. "I've missed a lot."

Sara touched his cheek, like she had all those years ago at a very dusty crime scene. "You've been missed a lot."

He caught her hand. "Have we stayed long enough?"

"Not long enough to satisfy Queen Catherine."

Grissom's forehead touched hers. "I just want to be alone with my wife."

Sara closed her eyes briefly, but they popped back open when she had a sudden thought. Stepping back, she grasped his hand tighter. "Give me a five minute head start and I'll meet you in the upstairs bathroom."

"Sara, are you suggesting that we..."

She stopped him with a kiss. "I really don't want to wait anymore, do you?"

"No," he immediately answered. "Absolutely not. No, ma'am."

Sara winked at him from over her shoulder as she discreetly wove her way through the crowd towards the stairs.

Grissom took a swig of the drink someone had handed to him earlier, but he barely tasted it. He glanced at his watch. Twenty seconds had passed. Only four minutes and forty seconds left.

"Gil?" Ray came up from behind him. "Welcome back."

"Thank you." They shook hands briefly. "I hear you're already a level two," Grissom went on. "Congratulations, Doctor."

"Well, I had big shoes to fill." Ray glanced around. "Where's Sara?"

"Bathroom," Grissom replied honestly.

"You know," Ray began, "I'm glad I've gotten a chance to work with her. She looks at things from a different angle than most people and she sees what's really there. I appreciate that."

"So do I." Grissom glanced at his watch again. Four minutes and ten seconds. "It's what I first noticed about her." He held up his watery drink. "I could use a refill. You?"

"I'm actually heading out." Ray offered his hand again. "Good to see you, Doctor."

Grissom shook it again, with a touch too much vigor. "You, too, Ray."

* * *

In retrospect, Grissom realized that Nick had probably noticed him sneaking up the stairs a full two minutes earlier than what he and Sara had agreed on, but if anyone could be discreet, it would be Nick.

He found Sara waiting for him in the semi-dark, having already lit the myriad of candles that Catherine had used to decorate the bathroom. With his unblinking stare fixed on his wife as she started to remove her shirt, Grissom locked the door.

It was a blur from start to finish, but when Grissom regained focus, he found himself standing between Sara's thighs as she clung to the towel rod to keep from sliding off the bathroom counter. His pants were around his ankles; hers were thrown over the closed toilet lid. They were both panting for breath, yet Grissom felt better than he had in months.

"I can't believe we just did that. Here." He nuzzled the underside of Sara's jaw. "You don't even like doing this in our bathroom."

"Germs," she moaned as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and inadvertantly moved within her. "Don't give a shit about them right now."

"It's a good party downstairs," Grissom said a moment later. "But I like ours better."

Sara kissed his shoulder. "I don't know about you, but by the time we get out of here and back home, I'm going to be more than ready to do this again."

"Funny," he laughed. "I think I will be, too."

His wife rubbed her smooth leg up and down the bare length of his hip and Grissom suddenly wondered if he shouldn't just cash in his return ticket to Paris and have someone from the Sorbonne ship Hank back to America.

"The only good thing about being apart is getting back together," Grissom said out of the blue.

Sara leaned back on her hands, allowing him such a perfect view of her breasts. "I can think of a few better things. Like getting to do this every night. Or even just every week."

"Can't argue with that." They kissed, long and slow and deep. "Let's go home?" he suggested.

She bit her lip earnestly. "For good?"

Grissom relucantly stepped back, pulling away from the warmth of her body. "For now."

With a sigh, Sara slid off the counter and reached for her underwear. When they were both dressed and back in some semblence of pre-coital order, Grissom started blowing out the candles.

"I'll go first this time," he decided when there was just a single candle left lit. With a parting kiss, he added, "I love you, Sara."

She waited until he was gone before she blew it out. "Love you, too."

* * *

Thanks to a well-stocked bar and an amateur bartender with a generous Texas pouring hand, no one had even noticed Grissom and Sara were gone, not even the party's host. As Grissom came downstairs, he saw Catherine practically sitting on Vartann's lap as they whispered back and forth to each other.

His old friend glanced up just in time to see him raise his hand in a silent gesture that was both a goodbye and a thanks. Much to his surprise, Catherine just winked at him before returning her attention to the detective at her side.

Sara joined him exactly five minutes later. "She does look happy," Grissom observed, indicating Catherine.

His wife threaded her fingers through his, reminding him of how, only minutes earlier, their bodies had been similarly connected.

"It must be going around."

* * *

Fin


End file.
